Talkin Durty to Ya

(Complements of Reid's instaG selfie sillz)

167 days since I've last punched the keyboard with my thoughts and spat it onto this blog for all the interwebers to behold. Since that day, any time I've tried writing something that’s taken more than 30 seconds to jot down, I've just ended up getting side tracked, taking “what character are you” quizzes on Buzzfeed or shopping for nut butters on Amazon. Yes, my attention span has become diminished as my need for quick info has increased (in which, I blame twitter & snapchat for). In those 167 days, a lot of really unimportant and irrelevant stuff has occurred; like the rise and fall of my mustache. I’m still confused at how so many people managed to take me seriously during that time, as well as my ability to maintain eye contact with anyone for more than 5 seconds. I've also discovered that it’s possible to ride the exact same times (if not faster) on a 10-15 year old titanium frame bike, worth $free.99, as it is on a $12k+ bike (so what if feels like you’re scootin on a John Deere lawnmower compared to a Lambo? ..You’re still going the same speed, just (waaaay) less sex appeal).

Spectating is hard work.

I began this post to chat about the New Orleans 70.3 but I’ll first address the Oceanside 70.3…

(If you like twitter, or abstracts of abstracts, then: What you’re about to read is a brief downer paragraph. Skip it if you want to get to fun stuff)

I was hesitant to race the Oceanside 70.3 as my first race of the year- with a World Championship caliber field, chomping at the bit to get their season underway… BUT I did. Felt like a dude who can Macarana exceptionally, but jumped on stage alongside Michael Jackson, Shakira, Chris Brown and MC Hammer in a dance-off & expected to be competitive. (Even the Coachella hologram of MC Hammer would still annihilate me… oh he’s still alive? nvm #STOPhammertime). That being said, here’s a quick recap: I sat on the back of a big pack until the turn around buoy then somehow got separated and solo zig-zagged the remainder of the swim. It wasn't my finest swim ever. The harder I pushed on the bike, the flatter and more unenthused I became. Far behind, riding solo and not being around ANY competition (other than a pressing 20 minutes with Karl Bordine) for 35-40 miles was pretty damn frustrating, especially when you’re having a flat day. My heart & mind just weren't in it. I’m just being honest here. I hung my head and spun back to T2 then transitioned to my car. I've gotten a lot of people upset at me for bailing, and I mean no disrespect to them or to the sport by pulling out (not proud of it either). Empty heartedly completing a distance isn't “racing” to me and certainly not why I enjoy triathlon. A mental restructuring was/is needed to race professionally and all experiences make us grow. That’s all I got, regarding Oceanside.

I was excited about racing the New Orleans 70.3. A slightly more reasonable Men’s Pro field meant that I could at least be competitive and around some dudes. Also, I was stoked for my brother who jumped onboard last minute to race his 1^st 70.3.

Race day began with an introduction of the Pro field, one by one. After hearing the announcer introduce great triathletes before me with countless accolades, I was shocked to hear them actually have plenty of info on me when they intro’ed me. I believe one of the phrases was “blogger, extraordinaire” which I immediately heard my brother laughing and in my head thought “haha.. I wonder if these guys know that I haven’t even glanced at my blog account in months”. But to their cred, I probably wouldn't have started writing this if they didn't say that.

Reid & I sharing how great how great our days hv been

After a wonky & extremely unannounced start, I saw a few guys go off the front & left a large pack of dudes swimming a very "Keith" style pace. Thanks to the massive water churning of Tom Lowe, I was hardly working, sitting on his feet. I felt like a kayak in the wake of a cruise ship. In the last 2-300 meters I got into a better position & exited with a good-sized group of guys. Hopped out of transition with em & started motoring up the N'awlins Highway. Literally, in the 1st mile or two a ref scootered along side me & displayed a red card. I was pretty chill about it (if I do say so), calmly asked when/what it was for & he explained that he gave me a 4 minute penalty for taking 35 (or something) seconds to pass a rider. Hmm, really? I honestly didn't even know what he was talking about as we had just started out on the bike & the pack I came out of the water with was a hodgepodge & still sorting itself out. I didn't get down & just kept riding like nothing had happened. "Think about it when you get off the bike & take the penalty in t2. I wasn't having the most awesome time on that bike course in the wind & my legs didn't feel as strong as I would've liked (how often are they ever, though?) but had a decent pace going on. I don't remember when, exactly, but I got misdirected off course by a police & missed a bridge. That was a downer. 

Rolled into t2 (or/actually the penalty box outside of transition) & saw Chris McDonald, fresh out of the penalty box himself. I had a nice little chat with my dad thru the duration of those 4 long minutes & saw a grip of pro men ride in & take off from behind me. Figured, "I'm out here with an empty run course, may as well knock out a good brick run workout without trying to wreck myself for St. George in 2 weeks". So, I ended up taking out the 1st 6-7 miles at a nice Sunday long run pace, and then progressively running each of the remaining 6 miles faster than the last. The last 5k was a steady hard effort. #boringTrainingdetails 

The only thing I was genuinely upset with was that after a great swim, my poor brother got a flat, rolling his bike out of t1, then a rear flat after the 1^st mile. He didn't even get a chance to get in his aerobars, let alone finish his 1^st half. I didn't think my shite fortune would bleed into his bank account. Not sure what cricket in a crack I stepped on while walking under a ladder, alongside a black cat, during a full moon I pissed off, but I desperately need a bird to poop on me, cause I could use some luck.

Rice, beans, cased meat that's been uncased, & beer #NOLA

New Orleans was still a good time and I had fun exploring thru the streets of the durty Vegas of the south with my fam. I’m looking forward to going back to St. George in less than 2 weeks and hitting that course like I did last year, but “one more time, with feeling”.

Big thanks to all of my kick ass sponsors, I love you guys. Spy, Stone Brewing Co. & Harmony Bar! And (as always,) all of my love to my family & friends for your support.